Boss Fight (Beyond the Aura Book 1)

by Helen Adams

  “Have you seen Raz? And….” I hesitated. “His kid? Is she OK?”

  “Your fellow berserker is safe. Raz al-Essa wasn’t so foolish as to approach the water’s edge.” That told me. “As to his daughter… she is safe, here in our Refuge.”

  A weight I hadn’t realised I’d been carrying fell off my shoulders. Raz would be frantic about his girl, even though he’d never met her. He was a father who actually gave a shit about his kids.

  “Which brings me to the reason you’re still alive,” she continued.

  Uh oh.

  “This is our Refuge, our bolt hole. Our place of safety. It lies deep beneath the lake and I’ve sealed it with magic. I may not be able to defeat the water golems, but not even a vaengrjarl could break the wards I put on this place.” There was grim satisfaction in her voice. “But my point, human, is that you have no hope of getting back to the surface without our help. Too deep for your lungs to last.”

  Well, crap.

  “And in return for your help – which would be gratefully received, of course – you would want…?”

  “A favour.” Petra was blunt. “Of my choice. At any time. Owed by you, personally, to me.”

  I hesitated. Owing a favour to a mermaid? That was dangerous, even for a woman. I couldn’t give them a child, but I was a berserker – there were plenty of other things that I could do for them.

  I’d be nuts to accept. But if I didn’t, I’d never get home; I’d die down here. Although I only had Petra’s word that I wouldn’t be able to swim to the surface…

  I couldn’t take that risk. “Deal.”

  Hurt shivered up and down my legs. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to push that pain away. If I didn’t – if I couldn’t – I’d be good for nothing. I needed a clear head.

  Every mermaid looked like Kassandra; straggly hair and staring, sunken eyes. As if they couldn’t understand what had happened to them, couldn’t conceive that this level of suffering was even possible.

  I knew that I was going to regret asking this. The queen had already wrangled one favour out of me, and now she was about to get another… but I had no choice.

  “Petra,” I asked as she marshalled the remains of her people. “My ankles are smashed. Do you know any healing magic?”

  An expression crossed her face. It took me a second to recognise it. Holy cow, was that regret?

  “I’m sorry. We must conserve our magic for the exodus, and your return to dry land.” Damn, that was regret. “I can’t heal you.”

  My lips thinned. Great. I’d have to wait till I could get to my leighis, then pray that it was potent enough to work on this level of broken bones.

  If I could get to my leighis.

  Petra and Kassandra left me alone, so I sat on my ledge and waited. And sweated. I practiced some of the breathing techniques that Raz had taught me, but it was hard to clear my head when I was still wet and in pain. Eventually I gave it up as a bad job and imagined what I’d do to the golem wrangler.

  The mermaids came back, wriggling across the stone. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to that.

  “They’re gone.” Petra’s face was slack with relief. “It’s safe for us to come out.”

  “How do we know that they won’t come back?” Kassandra was on the edge of hysteria.

  “You forget yourself.” Petra’s voice was cold. Her subject flushed and looked down.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

  Petra nodded. “Forgiven. Muster the others. We’re going out to sea.”

  Kassandra’s head flew up. “We’re going home?”

  “Yes, dear one, we’re going home.” The queen’s expression softened. “I find this fresh water unpalatable.”

  “Petra?” I tried. I wasn’t going to call her ‘Your Majesty’. She turned her heavy gaze on me. “We came to your people a few days ago trying to find out who was creating golems. We got the wrong answer.”

  “Impossible!” Kassandra spat. Petra stiffened. Great – how to piss off mermaid royalty in one easy lesson.

  “Your girl here told my mentor that it was a warlock called Kristjan Vargas. He was unwise enough – well, someone was unwise enough – to send golems after a vaengrjarl prince,” I added.

  Petra sucked air through her teeth. “Who?”

  “Lukas.” Give a little information, get a favour in return? Both mermaids grimaced and shared a quick, uneasy look.

  “So Kristjan is now dead,” Petra mused aloud. Of course Kristjan would be dead, if Lukas was involved. “And yet here we have more golems.” Her eyes speared me. “They could be another wrangler.”

  “There could be.” I nodded to acknowledge the point. “But it would have to be a huge coincidence, right? Two warlocks working together? You know they get on about as well as cats or… octopus or… whatever the hell you keep as pets.”

  “Mermaids are never wrong –” Kassandra hissed. Petra waved her to silence.

  “Mermaids are occasionally wrong,” the queen conceded. “Rarely. But it has been known to happen. We are only as good as the information we are provided.”

  I sat up straight, almost managing to ignore the screaming pain from my ankles. I had to take something positive from this disaster. A mermaid queen had just admitted that one of her own had made a mistake? That was easier than I’d expected.

  Of course, the fact that they’d almost been annihilated might have had something to do with that admission.

  Lukas had been wrong, too. Whatever retribution the warlocks levelled his way – and whatever fallout Raz and I suffered from that – was all for nothing, because Lukas had made a mistake. If both the mermaids and the vaengrjarl had been wrong, there must be a damned good reason why…

  “Petra, I need to know who sent the golems.”

  “I cannot tell you.” Worry had etched deep lines into her face. “We now lack the resources to find out. But I can give you this one thing.”

  “At this point I’ll take whatever I can get.”

  The queen’s smile was neat and prim and told me exactly one thing – she didn’t give a fuck about my problems. I didn’t blame her. Her home, her family, had just been destroyed. In her position I would feel exactly the same.

  “Know this,” Petra explained. “Primal magic is a stain. It smells. Whoever uses it is bathed in that smell.”

  I knew that. We all felt it, though it was a different sensation for everyone. The reek of burned chicken was still strong in my nasal memory.

  “The use of primal magic can be taught, and not just to other warlocks. When that happens, the same smell, the stain, is passed from master to student.”

  “Hang on!” Harpy’s Bestiary didn’t say anything about this. “Lukas followed a scent back to Kristjan, but it didn’t originate from him. You’re telling me that he had students?”

  “Undoubtedly. One of them, not necessarily a warlock, must have made the golems. End the student and you end the problem.”

  I blinked, thinking hard. There was no telling how many people Kristjan had taught over the years, and no way for us to find out. We might have been able to search Kristjan’s house, but Lukas had burned the place down. Damn!

  Petra might know who the students were, but there was no way she’d tell me now. I couldn’t bargain it out of her. And they were leaving, so Raz couldn’t make a traditional information exchange… even if I’d let him.

  Fuck it. That meant the only avenue left was Lukas.

  Returning to the surface was not an experience I wanted to repeat. Ever been in one of those inflatable balls that float on the water? Push to control your direction and try not to fall over, ha ha, isn’t this fun?

  This ride was similar, except that Kassandra was in control. She pinched an ephemeral scrap of translucent, magical material between two fingers; the scrap stretched over a fifteen feet gap into a delicate, glittering cord. The cord was attached to my bubble. She pulled me along as she swam.

  I sat in my personal carriage and contin
ued to sweat. I sat with my legs out, trying not to put pressure on my ankles; impossible in a rolling, moving sphere. And even though I knew that it couldn’t happen (mermaid magic was strong) I was terrified that the bubble would snag on a branch and burst. I was still too deep to swim to freedom, even if I’d been able.

  So I sat. And I sweated.

  The bubble popped up like a cork.

  I could have cried with relief. Mermaids broke the surface all around me, sleek heads wet and dripping, hair fanning out behind them. There weren’t many. A lake this size should have been able to support over a hundred, maybe more. I saw less than a fifth of that number. Many of them were children, huddling in the protective ring of their mothers, aunts and older sisters. I scanned their faces as I was towed to the shore, trying to find one that looked like Raz.

  I wondered how many youngsters had died today.

  Kassandra rubbed her fingers together. The scrap of ephemera pinched between them disappeared, and with it my bubble. I splashed into two feet of cold, muddy water.

  My ankles howled. I’d have to crawl out of the lake on hands and knees.

  “Tsk, you kiss your father with that mouth?” Kassandra drawled as I let out a stream of abuse.

  “Shut the fuck up about my dad. What do you know?” I snarled.

  “About you? All kinds of things.” Her smile was catty. “You don’t like mermaids, do you?”

  My smile made her flinch. The bitch was just playing with me; she didn’t know jack shit about my family.

  Did she?

  “Kassandra!” Petra called. The others had grouped further out in the lake, but her voice carried easily across the water.

  “We will meet again, berserker. You owe my queen a favour. She will collect.” Kassandra’s eyes glittered, cold and hard.

  “Ever tried sushi?”

  Kassandra turned – with a contemptuous flip of the tail – and swum back to her shoal.

  I didn’t watch them go. I didn’t give a shit how they left. It wasn’t a tidal lake, there were no channels connecting it to the sea. Nope… not looking. Didn’t care. All that mattered was getting out of this fucking water and on to dry land.

  One step at a time.

  I crawled out of the lake. I was soaked to the skin and freezing cold; once again, I couldn’t feel my ankles or feet. But I also couldn’t feel my hands, legs or arms.

  I flopped up to the tree line. I felt like a fish out of water, boom boom. Twigs and stones dug into me with every wriggling lurch. I was numb to them.

  Eventually I came to a gasping halt, hauled myself up onto a bench, and sprawled out. I wanted sleep. Every muscle in my body was aching and sore. Weak autumn sun peeked between the trees, warming my face. Pain pulsed through my ankles and up my legs.

  “Daphne!”

  The call came from further down the lake. Raz. Alive and noisy.

  “Daphne!”

  “Over here.”

  I watched as he burst from the trees, Ques and Lorl flying on either side. Their fur rippled orange and yellow, tinged with the rich, deep green of healthy grass – the taufrkyn were worried, but excited and pleased that Raz had found me. Or maybe Lorl had guided them to me?

  He skidded to a halt by the bench, eyes raking over my prone body. I thought about getting up and changed my mind. Nice bench.

  “I’m not dead,” I croaked.

  “You’ve got a lump the size of a tennis ball on your head.” He helped me into a sitting position, gentle fingers probing my soaked scalp. “Have you got a concussion?”

  “I did get hit on the head,” I giggled. “I might be concussed. What I definitely have is broken ankles.”

  Right, time to stop giggling. Maybe I really did have concussion. I couldn’t seem to control my mouth, and I didn’t want it to spill out something important – like how I’d never felt as if I deserved his care and attention. I pressed my lips together.

  “What happened to you down there?”

  “I met a mermaid queen,” I said, focussing hard on what my tongue was doing so that it couldn’t betray me. “And I owe her a favour. Yay, me!” I waved my hands, mock triumphant. “And your little girl is fine. I asked.”

  His fingers stilled. He’d never have asked the question, even though it would have burned him.

  “I need to get you out of here,” Raz continued as if I hadn’t said anything about his mermaid child. “People heard the ruckus, someone called the police. It’s time to go.”

  “Ankles, remember? Broken.” It was an effort to keep my eyes open. Sleep would certainly be safer than talking.

  “So I’ll carry you.”

  My natural inclination was to argue, then smack his face if he moved any closer. But it was too late. Before I could think of a scathing insult he’d scooped me up, one arm under my knees, the other around my shoulders. His warmth seeped into my cold frame.

  I think I zoned out. I was tired and frozen, pain crawling along my bones like an electric current.

  I stirred when Raz put me down. Oh… the back of the van. The sodden parka was eased off my shoulders, a rough blanket draped over my frozen frame. I flicked out like a lightbulb.

  ELEVEN

  When I woke it was to the gentle rumble of an engine in my ears – we were on the move. Something warm was pressed against my belly; I flinched, then relaxed, making my ankles burn. It was only Lorl. Her fur against my skin, the tiny pads on her paws, was like a warm blanket on a cold day.

  “Take this,” Raz said, tossing a small tub over his shoulder at me. I sat up and caught it with one hand. Even broken and exhausted I still had excellent reflexes, though right now I took no pride in that fact.

  Two police cars screamed past. I tensed until we were miles away, wondering what they would find. There’d been at least one body on dry land. Like all Mythic Racers her corpse would turn to mush, but not before the police reached the scene. They couldn’t see her for what she truly was. So what would they see?

  Nothing, I thought, easing my trainers off. I bit back a whimper. They will see nothing, because the body – bodies – won’t be there anymore. No way is Petra going to leave her people behind. I pulled my socks off with hands that trembled. My feet were swollen like footballs, the flesh a terrible shade of purple.

  Yeah. Raz was right. They looked after their families. I might hate the way they got their information, but I couldn’t hate the way they cared for each other.

  Rolling up my still-damp jeans, I scooped out a dollop of leighis, braced myself for more pain, and smeared the ginger-scented cream over my ankles. It took everything I had left not to scream as my bones begin to knit back together, sliding against each other, forming new bonds.

  It was excruciating. But I knew that, by the time we got back to my flat, I’d at least be able to hobble out of the van.

  When I felt I could speak without shrieking I told Raz about Petra.

  “In conclusion,” I said, staring at Raz’s ponytail as he drove, “mermaids are a royal pain in the arse. That’s all Harpy’s Bestiary needs to say. ‘Mermaids – a perfect way to ruin your day.’”

  “In conclusion,” he corrected, giving me a sharp look in the rear-view mirror, “we now have no option – we must speak with Lukas to find Kristjan’s student. And you owe Petra a favour.”

  “Yeah. Not too happy about that.”

  “They won’t call it in for a while,” my mentor said, confident. “You told me that they’ve gone back to sea. It’ll take them time to settle. They’ll have to carve out and defend their niche.”

  “Well, good luck to ‘em,” I replied, more testy than I’d intended. “And stop rolling your eyes!”

  “You can’t see me rolling my eyes, Daphne.”

  “I can just tell! And I don’t need a lecture on mermaid society!”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” he said with infuriating good cheer. “But we’re back to square one – your vaengrjarl recognises the scent of the golem wrangler but it’s one of Kristjan’s s
tudents. Lukas could still sniff him out.”

  “He’s not my vaengrjarl,” I muttered. “And your ‘him’ could just as easily be a ‘her’. Give us a sword and we’re just as deadly. Hey,” I said, sudden horror clenching my stomach, “I lost my sword! And my knife! Fuck!”

  The Sword With No Name had slipped from my numbed fingers. It could still be on the shore for all I knew. The Mark Two – Raz’s present – was probably at the bottom of the lake after I’d jammed it in the water golem’s non-existent ribs.

  “I found them for you. See your duffel in the corner?”

  I let out a big girly squee of delight. I didn’t question how he’d found them, I just accepted that they were here. I lurched to my knees and hugged Raz around the shoulders, dropping a big, wet kiss on his cheek. I felt muscles move under my lips as he grinned. He kept the van straight.

  I snagged the duffel and pulled it close, pushing the pressure pad to release the falchion. It came free with a familiar snick. If I’d truly lost it, it would have felt as if I’d lost a part of myself. Silly. It was a weapon, not a living being. But when it had slipped out of my fingers down by the lake I’d felt pain, a hurt that had nothing to do with the physical.

  “You’re cradling that ugly thing as if it’s a baby,” Raz laughed.

  “Baby,” I mused aloud, stroking my fingers along the brutally functional blade. “I like that. Guess The Sword With No Name just got one.”

  “You’re calling her Baby?” Raz sounded stricken. “It should be something like… like… Bonebreaker! Or Render! Something deadly!”

  “It’s my damned sword and I’ll call her what I want.”

  Raz parked down the road. I slid Baby back into her duffel and slung it over my shoulder, then gingerly tested my weight.

  The ache in my ankles was abominable. I felt as if I’d been walking for nine hours across the Brecon Beacons (school trip, we got lost). But the most important thing was that the bones had mended – that shivering pain, as if someone had peppered my skin with broken glass, was gone. An ache? That was nothing. And if I could make sensible conversation with broken bones, a fucking ache was not going to stop me.